


Meg at Midnight

by therosenpants



Category: Le Fantôme de l'Opéra | Phantom of the Opera & Related Fandoms, Love Never Dies - Lloyd Webber
Genre: F/M, Ficlet, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-09-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:01:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26435344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therosenpants/pseuds/therosenpants
Summary: Meg dreams before bed of Mister Y, then suddenly he appears.
Relationships: Erik | Phantom of the Opera/Meg Giry
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Meg at Midnight

**Author's Note:**

> A short drabbly thing I wrote years ago for a RP forum I ran, and played as NutMeg Giry. Unedited. Enjoy!

The candlelight flickered on the nightstand. It was quiet. There was no moon that night. Only the candle, shining bright.  
  
Meg lay awake, her sharp eyes focused on the candle. Or was her gaze farther, more on the picture that the candle illuminated? Yes, it was the picture, come to find out. It was in an oval frame, decadent just like him. Gold and silver frame, black and white photo. She was in it too. She'd begged him for this picture, thankful her mother didn't want to be in it. It was the grand opening of Phantasma, before all the people arrived. She stood there next to him, under the large sign, wishing to hold his hand but happy his arm was around her. She had beautiful teeth, so she was not afraid to smile like they tell you not too. How could she not? She was happy and filled with gaiety. Was that a hint of a smile she detected as well on his lips? It was tugging at the visible corner of his mouth. By jove, it was! A smile!  
  
Meg giggled and rubbed her nose. It was one of the few smiles she'd seen him give. And it was _only for her_. She stroked her hair, imagining that it was he who grazed his fingers through her golden locks. Christine had been so very wrong in giving him up. It was no matter, because she had him all to herself now, even if he was busy. She had done so very much for him, so surely that must have meant something.  
  
"Master... I wonder what your real name is. Surely you have one," she began. "It must be buried so deep inside you, all these years going by so many different things."  
  
_The Phantom of the Opera..._  
  
Meg jerked at the whisper in her ear, the memory of his sad fate lingering in her mind. "He's not like that anymore... He's so very kind to me, and to mother." She sighed. To think she was once afraid of him, terrified that he'd drag her down to hell with him. Now heaven was their only destination.  
  
Suddenly, the door to her room opened, and her roomate Peggy came rushing in, jumping on Meg's bed and giggling up a storm. "Meg, Meg! He's here, he's here!"  
  
Tired but unable to sleep, Meg rubbed her eyes and began to sit up, yawning. She pushed the brunette off of her and braced the excited girl's shoulders. "Who's here, Peg?"  
  
"The Boss! It's the Boss! He's here to see you!"  
  
Meg's eyes were as round as saucers. "W-What?! What's he doing here!" Now she was frantic, now she was miserable trying to impress him. She wretched herself out of bed and threw on her silk dressing gown, tying the sash quickly and fluffing her hair in the mirror. She wiped the exhaustion from her eyes with a quick smile and a facial exercise, and dabbed perfume onto her breasts.  
  
"I dunno! He's still walking up the stairs, I saw him on my way back from Lloyd's across the hall! But he can't be here to see me, he hardly knows me! He HAS to be here to see you, Meg!" Peggy couldn't stop giggling, so Meg, powdering her nose from her compact, glared at her.  
  
"Shhh! You want him to hear you or what?"  
  
Peggy shook her head, ashamed.  
  
"Then shut your trap!" The compact snapped closed and she flung it quickly down on the vanity.  
  
Meg rushed out of the room, then quickly collected herself as she walked through the sitting room and to the apartment door. It was scandalous for two women to be sharing rent together, but then again, she lived in the slums of New York, so people hardly cared.  
  
There was the knock! It was him! She fluttered, her heart pounding and her smile spreading throughout her whole features. "Coming, coming!" she called, pretending to be unawares it was him. She opened the door.  
  
"Master! What are you doing here?" Her brows furrowed, but she hardly cared _what_ he was doing there, only that he was there.  
  
Mister Y was dressed casually, a bowler hat on his head and his mask a darker one more suited for the night. He looked worn out and listless, his hands clutching a musical score like it was his lifeline. " _Bonsoir, Marguerite,"_ he said in perfect French. He always spoke in French to her or her mother when he wanted no one else to hear what he was saying. "Forgive me for this late hour and my impropriety, but I'm afraid it was urgent."  
  
She shook her head. "No--no trouble at all, sir! What can I do for you?" She covered her chest slightly as if she was modest. Ha!  
  
He fiddled with his fingers, looking down at the score and clearing his throat. "I've just finished composing this song, and I was hoping I could get it to you before your mother got to it. She always likes to change my music before it reaches you, and I'd rather her not this time." He held said music out for her to take.  
  
Meg looked down at it and grinned. She took it gladly, so very happy that he thought of her first, before her mother or anyone else. "Of course, Master. I'd be glad to look at it. Say, you wanna come in? I hear its freezing out there." Clever ploy, Meg, clever game.  
  
The man shook his head quickly, taking his hand from his head and bowing slightly. "No, I should go, I should never have disturbed you. I... I will see you tomorrow morning, eight o'clock sharp to run the song."  
  
Meg nodded, disappointed, preparing to close the door in sadness. "Yes, of course Master."  
  
He nodded back. " _Bon nuit, Mademoiselle."_  
  
The door clicked shut, and Meg clutched the music to her chest, her forehead pressed against the wood.  
  
"So...? What'd he say?!" Peggy exclaimed from behind her.  
  
"He said..." she began, smiling softly and sighing. Even though he wouldn't come in, just the fact that he thought of her like this brought tears to the woman's eyes. "He said, Peggy... He said..."  
  
_... Bon nuit, Mademoiselle._


End file.
